


Luminous Beings

by hope_s



Series: Heistwives Toybox [4]
Category: Ocean's 8 (2018)
Genre: "that Cate Blanchett bondage photoshoot", Bondage, Bottom!Lou, Comic-Con, Cosplay, Costumes, Edgeplay, F/F, Fluff and Smut, Heist Wives, Lou POV, Married Couple, Married Life, Married Sex, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Post-Canon, Rope Bondage, Smut, Star Wars Costumes, Strap-Ons, Top!Debbie, pack-and-play strap-on
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-18
Updated: 2020-01-18
Packaged: 2021-02-19 02:54:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22304116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hope_s/pseuds/hope_s
Summary: Constance's intel seems good, and Debbie is convinced that the Comic-Con Con will provide a modest payout. Lou is skeptical and chooses to add to her costume to cheer herself up. Afterwards, Debbie takes control.
Relationships: Lou Miller & Debbie Ocean, Lou Miller/Debbie Ocean
Series: Heistwives Toybox [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1583962
Comments: 11
Kudos: 50





	Luminous Beings

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sarux](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarux/gifts), [journadin](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=journadin).



> Thank you for the Costumes/Top!Debbie prompt from sarux and the Cate Blanchett bondage photoshoot prompt from journadin (on Tumblr)!
> 
> "That Cate Blanchett bondage photoshoot": https://imgur.com/gallery/g2wrE  
> (I sort of reversed the colors - black ropes on white clothes instead of light ropes on black, but this is the knot pattern I was going for).

**Autumn 2019**

Lou was waiting patiently for bread to pop out of the toaster when there was a gentle knock on the door. A moment later, Tammy let herself into the loft with a large box under one arm. The heavy wooden door swung shut behind her, blocking out the hint of chill in the autumn air. Lou’s toast popped, and she hastened to pull it from the toaster and set it on a plate before moving around the counter to help Tammy with the box, which was large and unwieldly.

“What’s all this, Tim-Tam?” Lou asked in lieu of any proper greeting as she took the box and placed it against the back of the couch, out of the way. 

“Debbie ordered it.” Tammy stretched her back and sighed. “I have to remind her that I’m not Amazon.”

“Are you sure?” Lou teased with a pointed glance towards the Prime logo stamped across the box.

Tammy rolled her eyes. “Sometimes I wonder if there’s really much of a difference, morally speaking.”

Lou grimaced and straightened up from where she had knelt next to the box. “Tea?” she asked. She made her way back over to the kitchen and took a bite of her toast. 

“Sure. Is Debbie here?”

“I don’t think so.” The words came out mumbled around her mouthful of toast. She swallowed hard. 

“You don’t _thi_ —?” Tammy began, exasperated.

“You know how she is,” Lou placated with shrug. “She’s very good at hiding. But no, I don’t _think_ she’s in the loft. She left a couple of hours ago to do some recon at the convention center. Why?”

Tammy winced. “Nothing in particular. Just wanted to make sure all of that was what she wanted.” She gestured towards the box. “When’s the big day?”

“Next week – Saturday,” Lou said. She pulled two mugs from the cupboard above the sink, put tea bags in them, and turned to find that Tammy had slid into one of the stools at the counter. “Honestly, Tim-Tam, I’m not sure how big it’s going to be,” she went on with a sigh, leaning her elbows against the countertop and running her fingers through her hair. “Constance has Debbie all excited. Debbie thinks we’re going to make a fortune. _I_ have my doubts.”

Tammy entwined her fingers and rested her chin on her hands. “Are you worried?”

“About the payout?”

“No, Lou, about the _job_. Do you think you—Do you think _she’ll_ get caught?” Tammy asked, a note of impatience at Lou’s apparent density creeping into her tone.

Lou caught Tammy’s gaze and held it. “No,” she said. “No, nothing like that. I just don’t want her to be disappointed if we make less than Constance’s very, _very_ hopeful predictions.”

“Debbie’s a big girl,” Tammy counseled. “She can handle it.”

“I hope so.”

Their conversation turned to other matters, and by the time Tammy left, Lou felt marginally better. She scrubbed out their mugs and set them in the drying rack before turning her attention to the box. She could wait until Debbie got back, but there was no telling when that would be, and Lou needed to know every detail of Debbie’s plan in order to provide her usual counsel on ways and means. She stood with her hands on her hips for another minute, wishing that Debbie would walk through the door and shed some optimism on the situation, but then with a sigh, she pulled a box cutter from the drawer closest to the refrigerator and strode towards the box. Lou didn’t know why she was feeling so unenthusiastic about this job. Constance was thrilled about it, even though she wasn’t directly involved, and while she could be a bit “extra,” as Amita put it, Lou trusted Constance. All in all, Lou suspected that her general feeling of unease was rooted in the persistent rain this autumn and her lack of enthusiasm for doing much of anything that involved leaving the house or – if she had her way some days – the bedroom. Debbie, on the other hand, liked to use every last ounce of viable weather for jobs up until snow and slush gathered in the gutters. Lou couldn’t blame her, especially not after nearly six years in prison, but she hoped that after this gig, there’d be a break – at least until Debbie’s bank plan in April.

The rationalizations teamed through Lou’s thoughts as she methodically slit open the box and laid out items inside. Her brow furrowed. Many of them had the Disney and Star Wars logos printed across them, which really wasn’t Debbie’s style. Perhaps Tammy had accidentally switched the box for something meant for her children. Just as Lou was pondering whether or not to text Tammy or call her, she heard Debbie’s key scrape in the lock and straightened up from the floor to greet her as she rushed into the loft in a flurry of rain-drenched Burberry.

“Tammy stopped by?” Debbie asked, after placing a cursory kiss on Lou’s cheek.

“Yeah, but I think she gave us the wrong box. I was just going to call her.” Lou held up her phone. 

Debbie squatted next to the packages – Lou was always impressed she could do that in stilettos. “Nope, this is what I asked for,” Debbie said. “We should make sure they fit, though, here!” Lou put her phone down in time to catch the three plastic-wrapped items Debbie tossed in her direction. She furrowed her brow and surveyed the packaging, turning one of the packages over to find a promotional image of a model in costume next to a film still of Harrison Ford. She closed her eyes in disbelief.

“Debs…” she began.

“What?” Debbie was standing up now, her own packages in hand.

“Look, I know it’s a sci-fi convention or whatever, but I thought we were going to be security guards or something. I wasn’t intending to go as…” She squinted at the name in the description. “…Han Solo.”

Debbie rolled her eyes. “Comic Con is about costumes, according to Constance. We’ll blend in better this way, I promise. Besides, you don’t normally miss a chance to cross-dress.”

Lou groaned and rubbed a hand over her face. Debbie was right – _of course,_ she was – and Lou didn’t want to admit it. “Just…I don't know, Debs, you better make this up to me.” She didn’t mean it, not really.

Debbie’s eyes softened, and she crossed the space between them in four strides. “Oh, I think what I’m wearing will more than make up for it,” she said in a sing-song voice.

Lou rolled her eyes, but even so, she looked at the package Debbie was holding up. Her pop culture knowledge beyond music and old movies might be abysmal, but even she could recognize the outfit depicted in the modeled image. She slid her eyes to the description where the words “Princess Leia Slavegirl” were printed in block letters. “Jesus, Debbie, you don’t think that will draw attention?”

Debbie frowned. “Over a thousand people attend Comic Con per day during the New York convention. On average, about forty-five people out of a thousand wear a version of this costume.”

“How the hell do you kn—?”

“ _Also_ , we’re there to steal, and as you can see, this costume doesn’t have pockets, holsters, bags – anything that could possibly make it look like I pickpocketed anything.”

“Mine has _all_ of those thi—”

Debbie put a finger to Lou’s lips. “Shh, baby, I know, but for one thing, there are an average of _fifty-two_ Han Solos per a thousand people on any given day of the convention, and for another, you’re not a convicted felon.”

Lou sighed, closing her eyes and leaning her forehead against Debbie’s. “Okay, Debbie,” Lou said at last. “Walk me through it.”

**

All things considered, Lou had to admit that the plan was as airtight as any of Debbie’s schemes, and though it made her feel a little disgusted with herself, she also had to admit that Debbie was almost overwhelming hot in that goddamn gold bikini. Lou still couldn’t quite believe that Debbie would blend in looking like _that_ , but then again, Lou was biased. Debbie was _Debbie_ , after all – Lou’s love, Lou’s _wife_. As far as Debbie was concerned, Lou could concede a sizable blind spot.

She flipped through the stages of the plan as she stood in front of the mirror in their bedroom, making final adjustments to her costume. At the very least, it was comfortable, something she almost would have worn in normal life but with a fake gun and flatter shoes. She adjusted the tuck of her shirt and opened an extra button, trying to get back at Debbie just a little for making her dress up. If Debbie got to be distractingly sexy, Lou could at least show a little skin in the places she knew Debbie liked. And speaking of sexy…Lou watched as a smirk twitched on her lips in the mirror at the genesis of a new idea. Without giving herself a chance to overthink, she strode to the dresser, pulled out her packable strap-on, and set it on the bed. Hastily, knowing Debbie would come find her if she took too much longer, Lou pulled off her pants and underwear, slipped the harness around her waist, and adjusted the dildo against her hip. With her pants back on, she made her way downstairs with an air of confidence that she knew Debbie would find suspicious. As long as it didn’t distract from the job itself, playing around was fair game. It had been that way for years now, and Lou knew exactly where to draw the line.

It took Debbie exactly two hours and forty-three minutes into the job to notice that Lou’s costume was more than what they had originally agreed upon. Standing in a crowded exhibit hall, Debbie was forced close to Lou by a large group of chatting youth wearing on odd assortment of robes, tails, armor, and spacesuits. There was a beat as Lou held her breath and Debbie’s eyes slowly found Lou’s, and then Lou grinned at her and snapped her gum. Instead of backing down, Debbie took it in stride. She slid her fingers delicately over the bulge in Lou’s pants and let her lips brush Lou’s jaw in a shadow of a kiss.

“Debbie, if we get the payout Constance promised,” Lou whispered in her ear, “I’ll play by your rules all night, but if we’re more than a couple hundred off, I’m in charge, okay?”

“So, we both win either way?” Debbie asked in a low voice. Lou wrapped an arm around her bare waist and slid a thigh between her legs against the rigid material of the gold bikini. In this position, Lou could see directly into Debbie’s bra, almost to her nipples. Debbie’s breaths were suddenly more audible, more desperate.

“That’s what I’m thinking,” Lou agreed.

**

The ride back to the loft was quiet with almost fifteen-grand of hard cash in the back of Lou’s old Toyota. There was a pleasant tension between them – an echo of what was sure to come later. Lou relaxed into it, focused on the road and on the electric presence of Debbie beside her. Debbie’s meticulousness had paid off, as had Constance’s intel. Lou didn’t mind that she had been wrong. On the contrary, she was proud of Debbie – maybe prouder than she had been about the Met or Coney Island. Sure, it was a smaller job – fewer people, smaller payout. But Debbie had pressed forward despite Lou’s doubts, and that made this job more impressive somehow, at least tonight. The strap-on dug uncomfortably into her hip as she drove, and she adjusted her legs. Debbie’s hand slid across her thigh and rubbed along the bulge in her pants. Lou drove just a little faster.

The money fit neatly into two NYC Comic Con backpacks purchased at the convention gift shop. Lou parked the car with a crunch in the gravel outside the loft, and Debbie was out of the door before the engine died. Lou smirked to herself. Debbie was eager, and that boded well for Lou. Lou followed her out into the night and pulled open the back door to sling her backpack over one shoulder. She straightened up and shut the door, not all together surprised to find that Debbie had moved close to her in the shadows. Her lips found Lou’s before she could speak, and Lou stumbled backwards until her back collided with the hard brick of the warehouse. She was grateful for the padding from the money-filled backpack. Debbie’s hands were everywhere – tangling in her hair, untucking her shirt, rubbing persistently over the strap-on in her pants. Lou felt weak at the knees at the thought of how little Debbie was wearing under her long wool coat as she fisted the fabric in two hands to pull her closer. Debbie tugged Lou’s bottom lip between her teeth, and Lou groaned.

“Inside?” she managed to gasp.

“Inside,” Debbie agreed. She slipped her hand into Lou’s and tugged her towards the door. Lou took a deep breath and steadied herself, feeling lightheaded. Her skin prickled beneath her clothes, reaching out towards Debbie’s. They were barely a step inside the door before Debbie’s hands were on her again, undoing the buttons of Lou’s coat with ease, sliding under her untucked shirt, around to the small of her back…

“Ahem.”

Debbie stepped back, and Lou was left feeling distinctly cold and confused. She shook her head slightly to clear it and swept her bangs out of her eyes. Debbie was still in front of her, looking stoic and impassive now with her coat tugged tight around her form to hide any evidence of the skimpy costume beneath. Lou glanced towards the living room and groaned. Lounging on the couch as though they owned the place were Constance and Nine Ball. Neither of them had the prudence to look even slightly embarrassed at witnessing what was very nearly public indecency.

“Fam!” Constance said loudly, both arms raised above her head in a triumphant gesture. “Was I right or was I right?”

Debbie sighed and rolled her eyes as she turned towards the room at large. “You were right.” She took off her backpack and tossed it onto the counter in the kitchen. Lou followed suit and then turned her back to make sure her shirt wasn’t revealing too much.

“Liked the camera trick,” Nine said, pointing to Debbie with her blunt.

“Thanks.” Debbie glanced towards Lou with a desperate look.

“Final count?” Constance asked eagerly, resting her chin on her fist.

“Haven’t counted y—” Lou began.

“Fourteen-thousand, eight-hundred, seventeen,” Debbie rattled off, “and sixty-two cents.”

Nine Ball blew smoke out in an impressed exhale, shaking her head. “How you know that?”

Debbie shrugged. “Practice.”

“Trust me,” Lou assured a stunned looking Constance, “a couple more decades of this, and you’ll be able to tell, too.”

“But you can’t—”

“Yeah, well, she’s older and wiser.” Lou dodged out of the way of a playful slap from Debbie.

“That’s a gift, man,” Nine Ball said, still looking at Debbie.

“Sometimes,” Debbie said lightly, but her eyes found Lou’s with dark significance. Lou shivered slightly. She knew Debbie privately cursed her obsessively analytical mind when it didn’t allow her softer things like love and wonder and empathy, not in the ways she wanted, anyway. Lou smiled encouragingly at her.

“So, you’re here for your cut?” Lou asked, trying to speed up the conversation and get back to their previous activities. She was very aware of the strap-on in her pants and very much wanted to avoid comments about it from Constance or Nine Ball.

“And to celebrate!” Constance held up a beer in one hand and a joint in the other. Nine Ball gave her a sideways look that told Lou she had picked up on Lou and Debbie’s mood.

“It can wait, y’all,” Nine said, shutting her laptop with a snap.

“What?” Constance asked, disappointed.

Trusting to Nine Ball to explain the situation, Lou wrapped an arm around Debbie’s shoulders and guided her towards the stairs. “Feel free to take each of your cuts from the bags, okay?” she said over her shoulder. “We trust you.”

“But—” Constance began. Nine elbowed her in the ribs, and Lou slid her hand pointedly down Debbie’s back to rest on the curve of her ass. She heard Constance’s groan of frustration, but she didn’t turn around. Her heart was beating violently in her chest, and she sensed tension in Debbie’s movements that revealed she was just as eager as Lou was to be alone. They turned right at the top of the steps and made their way towards the bedroom at the far end of the upper floor. Debbie’s hand twitched against the small of Lou’s back, urging her to walk faster. Downstairs, Lou heard Constance and Nine Ball falling into conversation. She hoped it wouldn’t take them too long to divvy out their cuts and leave. She wanted every moan that Debbie made to be just for her. The bedroom door slammed behind them at last, and they stood staring at each other, breathing heavily. 

“Did you mean what you said back there about playing by my rules?” Debbie asked in a rush. She folded her arms over her chest and looked at Lou with utter solemnity.

Pleasurable butterflies erupted in Lou’s stomach. “Yeah, I really did, Debs,” she said seriously.

“Can I tie you up?” Debbie’s tone was matter-of-fact, business-like, as if she were discussing a job. Lou recognized the tactic – it was always easier for Debbie to express her true feelings if she could make them sound as if she were talking about nothing more interesting than the weather.

Lou hesitated. They hadn’t done _that_ in a very long time. She considered it, and after a few seconds, Lou felt the skin of her wrists and ankles tingle in answer. “Yeah, you can,” Lou said firmly, certain now. “Anything, Jailbird.”

Debbie smiled, tentatively – an expression at odds with her request. “Sit on the bed?”

Lou nodded and walked slowly to the bed, surprised that her legs weren’t shaking in anticipation. Debbie didn’t often take control in the bedroom – not with Lou. When she did, it was something special. Lou shed her coat and knelt on the bed with her hands in her lap, neutral and open. Debbie strode confidently to the end of the bed, heels clicking on the hardwood. She hadn’t removed her shoes downstairs, hadn’t had time before Constance interrupted their homecoming. Lou was grateful, though, because Debbie in stilettos was another level of hot. Debbie’s coat fell to the floor without ceremony, and though Lou had seen her in the gold bikini all afternoon, the reveal was still breathtaking. She felt her mouth go dry as she traced over Debbie’s breasts with her gaze.

“So beautiful,” Lou said quietly. Debbie smiled again, more confidently this time.

“Pants off,” Debbie told her. “Vest, too.” 

Lou hastened to obey. She flung the trousers, vest, and boots of the costume to the floor and knelt once more in the center of the bed. The strap-on rested against her thigh – bright purple and slightly translucent, contrasting with the ivory of her skin and the starch-white of her shirt. Debbie stepped forward and placed one knee on the bed. She reached out and wordlessly undid the rest of Lou’s buttons until the shirt hung loose from her shoulders, framing her bare torso. The fabric brushed Lou’s nipples, already hard and sensitive from watching Debbie all day without a bra to press against them. Lou gasped and looked down, fully aware at last of her vulnerability and waiting – in spite of herself – for the uneasiness to sink in. It didn’t. It never did with Debbie. With two fingers, Debbie tilted Lou’s chin upwards until their eyes met, deep brown searching ice blue for any sign of discomfort. Lou let her eyes smile, and Debbie kissed her softly, briefly, in acknowledgment.

**

The ropes were snug around Lou’s arms, looping back and forth and bunching the fabric of her shirt, which Debbie had not allowed her to remove. Even as she wound the ropes and knotted them deftly, Debbie made sure to adjust Lou’s shirt across her front, teasing herself with only a partial view of Lou’s breasts. The knots formed a pretty row down Lou’s chest and along her spine, the rough shapes of flowers in soft black silk. Her arms were not pulled tight across her back, but they were secure at her sides with her hands resting open on her lower back. She could feel the edge of her harness beneath her shirt. Debbie sat back on her heels at last and surveyed her handiwork, reaching out to stroke the pattern over Lou’s right arm.

“Not too tight?” Debbie asked.

“No,” Lou assured her, testing them. “They’re perfect.” Debbie guided her to the head of the bed and propped her against a few pillows. She gently bent each of Lou’s legs and placed the soles of her feet on the mattress.

“I want to see how wet you can get,” Debbie murmured as she ran one long finger up Lou’s right leg to trace tantalizing patterns on her inner thigh. She leaned close and moved her hand to squeeze the toy against Lou’s hip. “How hard you can get.” Lou’s eyelids felt heavy, but she couldn’t take her eyes off Debbie, couldn’t even blink. Debbie pushed the silicone against Lou, sending a passing wave of heat through her blood.

“Mm. And what are you going to do?” Lou asked, trying to keep her voice steady, though she noticed how heavy the words were in her chest.

Debbie didn’t answer, but she smiled and moved back to stand at the end of the bed. Lou licked her lips, waiting. Debbie’s hands moved to her hips, fingers crawling over the waistband of the costume and the crimson fabric the hung between her legs. She dropped her gaze to the clasp, and as she did, her hair – in a loose braid on one side of her head – swung forward and framed her profile in perfect asymmetry. Lou sighed, and her hands tingled at the ghost-sensation of Debbie’s hair between her fingers, Debbie’s skin under her palms. Debbie undid the clasp and let the bottom half of the costume fall to the floor. Her gaze – almost curious – turned back to Lou. Lou knew she was cataloguing the position of her eyes, where she was choosing to look. She let her gaze linger on Debbie’s legs as Debbie stepped out of her heels and walked to the bed once more. Her limbs seemed longer than ever like this.

“I want you to watch me,” Debbie said evenly, though Lou could hear a strain at the corners of her tone. As much as Debbie wanted this sometimes, it didn’t come easily to her – not with Lou. Lou would praise her for it later, would press kisses to her hair and hold her close, because that was always _them_ after. For now, though, she would watch.

“I want to see you,” Lou said.

“I know.” Debbie reached for a pillow and placed it a few feet in front of Lou on the bed. She reclined upon it and spread her legs in a mirror of Lou’s position, but not close enough to touch. Lou felt her own arousal throb beneath the harness, and she knew Debbie could see it, could see how wet she was already. Somehow though, watching Debbie was enough, and Lou relaxed into the need in her blood. She sighed and let her eyes fall to Debbie’s cunt, savoring the memory of her taste.

Debbie was teasing her, but even so, she didn’t waste any time. Lou followed the path of Debbie’s hand with her eyes as it trailed past her stomach to the moisture between her legs. Lou could almost feel Debbie’s hands on her own skin, and she twitched involuntarily in the ropes. The strap-on bounced against her hip, and Debbie’s eyes found it. Lou saw her swallow hard before she flicked her gaze back down between Debbie’s legs. Debbie massaged herself, letting her folds pass between two fingers to warm herself up. Lou felt heat between her own legs.

“Baby, you’re dripping already,” Debbie murmured.

“So are you,” Lou observed.

Debbie smiled and spread her folds to gather wetness on her fingertips. Lou felt a moan of appreciation fight its way out of her chest, which only made Debbie’s smile brighter. Shifting her hips just a little, Lou registered a wet spot on the bedspread beneath her. Debbie hadn’t been exaggerating. Perhaps with someone else, Lou would have felt self-conscious. Or maybe she _did_ feel self-conscious, but with Debbie, that was a positive emotion rather than a negative one. Lou stopped interrogating her own feelings and focused back on Debbie, who was circling her clit with two fingers. Lou saw a faint blush race across Debbie’s cheeks and followed the swipe of Debbie’s tongue as she wet her lips.

“I want to kiss you,” Lou told her, voice low and rough. 

“You want to _fuck_ me,” Debbie countered.

Lou smirked and tilted her head in assent. “I do.”

Debbie flashed a grin, which was replaced by a look of concentration as she dipped into herself once more, this time pushing deeper. Lou licked her lips. She _knew_ what Debbie felt like, knew every inch of her. She could imagine the way her inner walls curved, the exact spots inside her that elicited the sounds she was making now. Debbie added a third finger and then a fourth, and Lou knew she was getting close. Without realizing it, Lou found herself leaning forward off the pillows, tilting her entire body _closer_. Debbie’s scent mixed with her own permeated the room. Lou felt like she was floating – surrounded by warm arousal and by _Debbie_ , even though she wasn’t touching her.

“I’m gonna come,” Debbie gasped, and she did, barely a second later, with four fingers inside herself up to the knuckles. Then she was on top of Lou before Lou could realize what was happening. She gasped at the warmth of Debbie against her skin and leaned back against the headboard once more. The fingers that had been inside Debbie were now sliding into Lou’s mouth even as Debbie positioned herself and slid herself onto the strap-on, bottoming out at once. Lou whimpered around Debbie’s fingers as reality caught up to her. Her clit was throbbing beneath the toy, aching for friction. The taste of her coated Lou’s tongue, and still she sought more, licking greedily between Debbie’s fingers. Debbie rocked herself on the toy, back and forth, with her forehead leaning against Lou’s. The warmth of her breath sent shivers down Lou’s spine, and she could only watch in awe. The steady roll of her hips, the flick of her tongue every so often as she wet her lips. Lou was hypnotized, but eventually her own arousal began to get the better of her. She pressed her hips upwards, driving the strap-on further into Debbie.

“Don’t come until I tell you,” Debbie said breathlessly.

Lou groaned and opened her mouth to protest, but Debbie ground down on her again and the only words she could manage were: “I love you,” which fell from her lips in a sigh.

Debbie reached behind herself and unhooked the clasps of the bikini top. The costume fell away, and Lou leaned forward as Debbie arched her back. Lou’s arms and back ached dully from the restraints, but the feeling only heightened her sensations and made the movements of her mouth more desperate against Debbie’s skin. The haze of arousal made everything blurry, but at last her lips closed around one of Debbie’s nipples. Debbie cried out, fingers digging in between the ropes across Lou’s back. She began to fuck herself in earnest, and Lou kept her face pressed against her breasts, tasting the sheen of sweat on her chest. She was close again, Lou knew, but Debbie could keep herself on the edge for a long time. The rhythm of her thrusts onto the strap-on were nudging Lou closer to her own release, sending electricity out from her core.

“Debbie…,” she muttered, almost pleadingly.

“Mm hmm?” Lou could tell that she was trying to keep her tone conversational, but it was strained almost to breaking.

“I-I need to come, Debs.”

“Not yet,” Debbie replied at once.

Lou groaned in frustration against her skin. Debbie’s hands tangled in her hair, pressing her close with trembling fingers. Lou glanced down Debbie’s torso and caught a glint of translucent purple as the toy slid part way out of her once more. Debbie pushed herself back onto it quickly, and Lou watched their hips connect. Debbie’s clit brushed the bottom-most length of rope around Lou’s stomach, and they both moaned.

“Please, D—”

She was cut off by a cry as Debbie came for a second time, quivering against, around, over her. Lou wanted to hold her, soothe her through the waves of pleasure, but that was for another time – _most_ other times, Lou reminded herself.

“Love you, Debs,” Lou said again, voice rough but sincere.

“I love you,” Debbie said as her eyes found Lou’s. Her gaze was piercing, cutting through the clouds of heat and arousal surrounding Lou’s thoughts.

“Debs…”

Debbie kissed her, tender and warm at first, but changing rapidly to fire and teeth. The strap-on was still buried inside her, nudging both of them in all the right ways. Lou clenched her abdominal muscles and willed herself to hold out for Debbie’s command, wanting to wait. She trembled a little with the effort, and Debbie broke the kiss to stroke her face. Without a word, she lifted herself off the strap-on and knelt between Lou’s legs.

“Let’s get this off,” she said, tugging at the harness. Lou tipped her hips back and forth, and eventually between the two of them, they managed to slide the straps down Lou’s legs and off. Debbie slid onto her stomach, breath teasing over Lou’s arousal. “You’re so wet,” she marveled.

“Please, I—” Lou moaned as Debbie’s tongue flicked over her clit. “Don’t tease, Debs, come on, I need—”

“Shh, baby, relax,” Debbie soothed, stroking Lou’s thigh. “It’s okay, you can come now. Come in my mouth.”

Lou whimpered her gratitude and let her eyes fall closed, surrendering to the movements of Debbie’s mouth on her cunt, warm and solid. It took barely three minutes for her limbs to begin to shake, and then suddenly her vision went white, and she heard a groan of encouragement and praise from Debbie that vibrated against her. She pulsed around Debbie’s tongue – seven, eight, nine times – and then relaxed. Her legs twitched, and her upper body, still bound, trembled. Fading in and out of pleasurable paralysis, Lou nodded when Debbie asked if she could undo the ropes. She blinked slowly and flexed her unused muscles back to life as Debbie undid knot after knot. At last, the coils of black silk fell to the floor along with the shirt that Lou had almost forgotten about. No more costumes, now – just herself and Debbie and their breaths.

“I haven’t come that hard in a while,” Lou admitted after a few minutes.

Debbie chuckled. “Yeah, you…you soaked through to the sheets.” She took Lou’s hand and placed it on the bed. Lou registered dampness beneath her fingertips.

“Jesus…”

“You like watching me.” It wasn’t a question.

Lou smiled at her. “What else is new?”

Debbie grinned and tucked herself into Lou’s side. Lou wrapped an arm around her and tipped her head to kiss Debbie’s hairline. She could still feel the shadows of the ropes against her skin, and suddenly, she felt proud of herself for being able to do that for Debbie. She pulled Debbie closer; taking care of changing the sheets could wait. 

“I really love you,” she said, marveling at it. It shouldn’t have been surprising – not now, not after twenty years and a thousand jobs and a wedding. But sometimes, it still amazed her that they had made it. 

“I know.”

Lou smiled against Debbie’s hair and sighed deeply. “I like when you get it right, Debs. Even when I’m wrong, you know? You did well.”

“Thanks.” Debbie fiddled with Lou’s wedding set on her left hand.

The front door opened and closed downstairs, and they looked at each other, surprised. Lou had forgotten about Constance and Nine Ball, but then again, she and Debbie had only been home for about an hour, and counting out seventeen percent each of fourteen-thousand, eight-hundred and seventeen dollars and sixty-two cents was no easy task.

“You think they heard us?” Debbie asked.

Lou groaned. “Probably.”

Debbie sighed and tilted her head to meet Lou’s gaze. Her lip twitched, and she began to laugh. Lou found that it was very difficult to keep a straight face when Debbie was laughing, especially when her whole body was quaking against Lou’s. Mirth bubble up inside Lou, and she laughed, too. She could stay like this forever – warm and content, with Debbie in her arms. She laughed until her ribs ached, and Debbie had to reach up to wipe away the tears under her eyes, laughed until it turned to kissing again and she rolled Debbie onto her back.

“I love you,” Debbie said.

“I know.” 

**Author's Note:**

> The Star Wars references are self-indulgent, but Star Wars is my fandom of origin in terms of fanfiction, so here we are :)
> 
> ***
> 
> Many thanks to my wife go_get_your_top_hat for always beta-ing <3 :)
> 
> If you want to request a fic for this toybox series, please let me know in a comment on here or find me on tumblr at estel-of-irysi.
> 
> Kudos and comments make my day! Thank you for reading.


End file.
